


night and day

by reneewvlkers



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Kinda?, this is really just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reneewvlkers/pseuds/reneewvlkers
Summary: It's that classic story ofgirl likes girl but doesn't realise she does so they flirt by arguing in front of everyone they know until they finally own up to it.





	night and day

**Author's Note:**

> this is a commission done for the wonderful [shannon](http://cabeswaterlovesthem.tumblr.com/) for [tfcfansgive](http://tfcfansgive.tumblr.com/), a charity project i'm running with a couple of friends on tumblr! check out the other commissions posted and the compilation we're starting to sell from tomorrow!! (and thanks so much to everyone who've donated or commissioned anything so far <3 
> 
> don't @ me, this was meant to be 1k, i'm weak for lailalvarez.

“-And I swear to God she doesn’t have a fucking first name. Like, no one calls her by any name other than her surname. Does anyone in anywhere in the world just not have a first name? Like, it’s fucking ridiculous.” Laila huffs, pausing for breath just as she sees her face on her phone screen and it’s decidedly red.

“Okay, I totally regret asking you about the team,” Laila’s best friend of three years, Chey, says with a laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Laila replies, immediately deflating. “I just-”

“You needed to vent, I get it. I have dealt with you through all of your worst exes, I know the deal.”

“She’s not an ex! Nothing like that!”

“Not at all,” Chey says, but her eyes twinkle in a way that suggests she might be lying. Laila puts that down to FaceTime being a bitch.

“Okay, ignoring you now. It was great to catch up, but I literally have to run away now,” Laila rolls her eyes.

“Great to hear about your girl troubles! Can’t wait to see you here soon!” Chey blows a kiss at her screen.

“Yes, I am also looking forward to me driving across three states to let you tease me in person. Uh, why am I doing this again?”

“Love you too, bye!” Chey hangs up before Laila can protest any further.

Laila puts her phone away and assembles her things so she can jog to their last morning practice before spring break.

The sun is out, like it usually is, but it’s early enough that the sea breeze is still cool and the motion makes Laila feels refreshed rather than as though she’s drowning. It’s the best way to fire herself up for blocking the goal and doing repetitive drills for hours. _It’s a good day_ , she tells herself, _and nothing’s going to ruin it._ Then she corrects herself - _no_ one _'_ _s going to ruin it._

The only thing or person who can ruin Laila’s focus is Alvarez. She runs around too fast for a girl so short; she spends too much time keeping her hair from her eyes in increasingly extravagant ways and darts around other players in a flash as bright as a robin against fresh snow. Recently, she’s taken to catching Laila’s eyes and doing acrobatics. It’s infuriating. Laila wishes everyone would commit to the game a little bit more; enough that she can believe the scholarships and love of Exy mean as much to the rest of the team as they do to her.

But no. To some spoiled girls who have had talents and classes thrown at them since birth, Exy is just fun. A hobby. Another thing to put on their resume. They can afford to fuck around and spend their free time maintaining their hair or going to parties and shit-talking people who actually have to work for what they have.

Ugh.

(Laila has never been a hateful person, she swears. She also swears that there is _no connection_ between this hatred and the rage that she feels to all of her exes. Just that there’s been no one else in her life as unavoidable and impossibly infuriating as Alvarez until now.)

But she’s resolved that this will be a good practice. She got the frustration out of her system early, and it’s a good day; her last day on campus for a while.

Of course, that resolve is tested as soon as she gets to the Court. As she enters the doors, Alvarez is right there, as though she had been waiting for Laila’s arrival.

“Dermott, you know most people wait until practice starts before they get sweaty, right?” She calls, and Laila notices a few members of the team immediately roll their eyes, used to the drama by now. “Oh, sorry, I forgot you do nothing.”

Laila makes tired eye contact with Luis, one of the other goalkeepers who she knows is on her side if only because he’s tired of Alvarez constantly trashing their role in the team. “Well, Ermintrude, most people wait until midday before insulting people, but I guess we all have our flaws.”

Alvarez barks out a short laugh, “Yeah, that’s my name, how’d you guess?”

“I saw you singing and dancing about it on the beach,” Laila deadpans, bending to re-tie her shoelaces.

“Fairy tales? How well-read of you.”

It’s not Alvarez’s best line, but nor was Laila’s comment about flaws, so Laila decides to let it simply fly by rather than attempting to respond. Besides, Laila has her back to Alvarez now, so she may as well not exist.

Luis’ expression has changed. “See something you like?” Laila jokes, more quietly in order to make it clear to Alvarez that she may as well not exist to her now.

“Not me,” he replies, eyes flickering over Laila’s shoulder.

“What?” She asks, looking behind her to the almost empty locker room. Alvarez is walking out of the room - finally - leaving Laila with Luis and a few seniors who are uninterested in the whole situation.

Luis snorts. “Yeah, okay, I’m sure you don’t see it.”

Laila merely raises her eyebrows. She doesn’t see anything.

“Okay, so you’ve never noticed Alvarez checking out your ass before?”

Laila can’t help it; she laughs. “Fuck off, Luis.”

“Wait, you seriously think she hates you? Dude. Laila, I’m the most oblivious guy on the face of this planet and I can see the heart eyes she has for you. Or the - I don’t know, the lust eyes? She wants to bang you, for sure.” Luis claps a hand to her shoulder in the too-hard slap she’s become accustomed.

“Luis, please. You thought I was straight. You understand why I can’t trust you.”

Luis laughs. “Okay, yeah, I’ll give you that one. But I’m not the only one who sees it. Ask anyone.”

Laila rolls her eyes again. “Too much sun?”

“Better yet, ask her!” Luis says, ignoring Laila entirely. “This is so fucking fifth grade. Next she’ll pull your pigtails.”

Laila stares at Luis for a couple of seconds trying to come up with a response, but she can’t, so she just walks into the Court proper.

It’s a bad practice. Laila’s not sure she’s ever let in so many goals, and just thanks her lucky stars it’s attributed to spring fever. Much as she wants to, she can’t write off the fact that two people, in the space of an hour, have told her that there’s something more than hate between the two of them.

She can’t stop thinking about Alvarez.

* * *

“I was meant to have a week to stop thinking about her,” Laila groans, throwing herself onto Chey’s bed.

“But instead you figured out you have the hots for her,” Chey replies with no small amount of smugness, though she does submit to stroking Laila’s hair.

“No! It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?”

Laila bites her lip. “It might be a little bit like that. But she’s a dick! Just ‘cause I like her stupid hair doesn’t mean I like _her_.”

“Kinda seems like it does."

“All I really know about her is that she’s a good backliner and she’s kinda funny, I guess, when it’s not directed against me.”

“And that she has great hair.”

“And face and eyes and- she’s very pretty, I can admit that, I’m not too petty to admit that.” Laila groans, realising the mocking thoughts in her head sound remarkably like Alvarez’s voice, with little hints of a more Southern accent than her own bleeding through. “How weird would it be if I added her on Facebook mid-spring break to find out if she’s actually a prick to everyone or just me?”

“Very weird,” Chey says, plucking Laila’s phone from her hand. “And also difficult if you don’t know her first name.”

“I’ll never know,” Laila laments.

“Or you could see who the USC Trojans Exy team is following on Twitter, since they asked you for all your social media when you signed up.”

“You genius!” Laila says, pushing herself into a seated position next to Chey. “Uh, don’t follow her, though.”

“Too late,” Chey says, and Laila groans before grabbing her phone back. “It’s too late to unfollow.”

“I know that! Doesn’t mean I can’t stalk now.”

“That’s the spirit,” Chey says, approvingly.

“You’re an enabler,” Laila mutters, scrolling.

And _oh no I am never going to get over this_.

Laila bites down on a free finger. “She’s so hot. And she has a dog. And a niece, and she’s adorable with said niece, and- fuck! She fucking loves Halsey, she’s so gay. Chey, why did you do this to me? Look at- just look at this picture. I think I’m in love.”

Chey inspects the filtered picture of Alvarez and a fluffy dog. “Fuck, her hair _is_ great.”

“Right?” Laila slides down the wall until her head is dangling off the bed. “Throw me out with the trash, Chey, it’s where I belong.”

“Not accurate.”

“I suppressed a crush in favour of being a 7-year-old boy who bullies the girl he likes.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little accurate.”

“I have no chance. _Fuck_ , she’s so cute. Why didn’t you let me hate her in peace?”

“I do psychology. I’m against repression. It’s my whole thing.”

Laila groans.

“Good news, though.”

“Nothing’s good anymore.”

“She followed you back.”

Laila sits up so fast dots appear in her vision. “What? It’s been like… five minutes. She’s having fun on the fucking beach right now, I know, she posted a bikini picture and she looks _so good_ in it.”

Chey’s smirking. “Yup, and she took the time to follow you back within five minutes of getting a notification that you finally caved and followed her.”

“I could kiss you,” Laila says. “But I still kind of hate you.”

“That’s the sweet spot,” Chey says with a shrug. “Now we have to plot, though.”

“Plot?” Laila asks, knowing she’ll regret it.

“We’re not letting this fade into just a mutual on Twitter. You deserve better than that.”

“I don’t think I do,” Laila says, but she’s interested despite herself. “I’m an ugly bully.”

“Yeah, but so’s she. You’re perfect for each other. And you have to meet that dog.”

“I do,” Laila agrees, thinking of soft brown eyes.

“We’re going out tonight,” Chey says, dark eyes mischievous. “And I’m doing your makeup.”

“Chey, I love you, but I literally only brought jeans here. This is not going to work out the way you want it to.”

Chey rolls her eyes. “I have more clothes than that.”

“You are at least one size smaller than me!”

“Um, exactly?”

“I am not doing this.”

“Yes, you are. You owe me for Evan. In fact, I’m taking over all your social media for the week, and then we’ll maybe be even.” Chey says, sticking Laila’s phone in her pocket.

Laila narrows her eyes at her best friend. “I will go along with your plan as long as you promise not to be too obvious. And if you promise not to keep holding Evan over my head forever.”

Chey taps her chin. “I’ll call it definitely even if you play nicely enough. That’s all I can promise.”

“You may be a genius, but you’re evil.”

“I know,” Chey says, sweetly.

But left to her own devices, Laila is useless. She knows this. “Fine.”

For the next week, Laila’s Instagram and Twitter are used much more than usual. She tells her mother she’s just really enjoying New York with her best friend, and that’s partly true. But it’s a pretty marked change: her occasional California sunset and team shots is replaced with a daily post of her and Chey posing for their night out, her pressing a kiss to the cheek of one of Chey’s friends, reports of the best dogs in the city, short stories about adventures, and Laila even manages to convince Chey to post about Exy once.

Laila has to admit she looks good in the photos, and Chey is so much better at social media than she is. She tells Chey she should be in charge of Laila’s PR; “You’ve made this week look so good that even I want to hear more stories about what I’ve done.”

Chey grins and presses a kiss to Laila’s cheek before they part. “Don’t undo all my work as soon as you see her, okay?”

“No promises,” Laila shrugs, then crushes Chey in a hug. “I’ll miss you. Be good.”

* * *

“There’s our party princess,” Luis says, for once the first to greet Laila as she enters the Court. Laila attempts to surreptitiously look around, and seeing Alvarez’s hair, blushes slightly. “I’ve never seen you spend so much time away from your books.”

Laila smiles, hoping it doesn’t look so strained. “Yeah, uh, the condition Chey, my friend, made me for staying with her was that I didn’t make ‘the whole of New York more boring’.”

Luis laughs. “Well, trust me, I was glued to your Insta the whole break. It looked like you were having a _lot_ more fun than I was, trying to placate my parents.”

“It was great,” Laila says, her smile becoming more relaxed. “Why did your parents think it was a good idea to vacation together anyway?”

“Money?” Luis sighs. “Honestly, I’ve given up trying to understand their motives.”

“Well, hopefully no one else had to deal with that for their break,” Laila grins, looking around the room in an attempt to include the rest of their team in the conversation. (It’s only half scripted by her evil genius best friend; Laila wishes she had more time to know her teammates better.)

The Trojans rise to the throwaway kindness with their characteristic enthusiasm, telling stories of family and beaches and drinks. Laila doesn’t quite interrupt someone to say, “Stop! I had a great week and I’m jealous of you all! I know we live on a beach, but that’s different - like, did you guys _see_ Alvarez’s pictures?” She shakes her head.

At least half the room give her puzzled looks. If it were a video game, question marks would appear above their heads. People move over it as smoothly as they can, though, a sophomore asking Alvarez where she’d gone.

“I was still in Cali,” Alvarez says, though her eyes don’t leave Laila’s. “My family live just up the Coast. The beaches are awesome, though.”

“They look it,” Laila nods, but that’s as far as her confidence goes. “I’m glad you guys all had good spring breaks!” She says, and walks towards the field, trying to ignore how her heart feels nauseatingly as though it’s trying to rise out of her throat.

Luis stays just one step behind her. “Did I miss something, or do you and Alvarez not hate each other anymore?”

Laila jumps a little, despite herself. “Fuck. No. I mean, I don’t know. I guess I just… feel like a dick, and I’d rather not constantly hurl insults at someone I have to be on a team with, you know?”

“So you bonded over staring at her beach selfies?” Luis raises an eyebrow.

“No! Stop, don’t you get smug. I’m just trying to be friendly.” Laila can feel her cheeks heating up again.

“It has nothing to do with what I told you before break?”

“What you told me?” Laila repeats.

“Dumb doesn’t suit you,” Luis replies, then jogs a few steps away to start stretches.

“Shut up,” she mumbles in response.

But Luis isn’t the only one. Others look between the two of them during practice, even the seniors who Laila would have sworn hadn’t cared one iota about their rivalry. It’s only then that she admits to herself that she’d been drawing more attention to herself than she’d intended.

How she hadn’t realised that yelling at someone on a daily basis had been obvious, she doesn’t know. She was blinded by lust.

Alvarez doesn’t say anything, though. Laila hadn’t really expected her to, but it’s disappointing nonetheless.

Luis sends her a link over Facebook from one of the College Confessions pages of someone asking ‘ _bets on how long itll take exy #9 and #14 to fuck??_ ’.

_Please tell me you didn’t submit that_ , she writes back, more glad than ever that no one can see her blush through her phone screen.

_my typings better than that. offended._ He replies, which doesn’t instill much faith in her.

It’s not even an hour later that it happens.

Alvarez tags her on Twitter.

She screenshots the notification and texts Chey _I can’t look._

_BITCH ILL REPLY FOR YOU_ comes back immediately. _OPEN IT!!!!!!!!!_ comes soon after.

So she takes a deep breath and does.

_Since @lailadermott liked my beach pics so much, here’s more. #missingspringbreak #whatteam?_

And attached are some really, really cute pictures of Alvarez in a bikini.

_hyperventilating._ Laila texts to Chey.

_she liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikes you!!!!_ Chey replies, with about four lines of various heart emojis.

_and she quoted high school musical, I might be in love._

_i disown you as best friend._

Laila has to reply to the tweet. She knows she does. Playing hard to get is definitely middle school, and she’s technically been doing it since she turned up at USC. So instead she thinks, trying to plot as well as Chey would, then scrolls through the rest of her New York pictures.

Forming an idea, she texts a picture of her blowing a kiss at the Statue of Liberty where her legs look great to Chey with _is this cute enough to make her want to date me?_

_100 times yes. i’d go gay for you._ Chey replies back.

_You’re already gay as fuck, shut up._

Then she reopens Twitter, likes Alvarez’s tweet and carefully types out her response. _@alvarezzz Stop trying to make me jealous! I had a great break, too._

Then she thinks that’s not flirty enough, so before she can convince herself not to, she sends another reply. _@alvarezzz You have to show me that beach, though._

Alvarez clearly doesn’t have to proofread her tweets or get them vetted by her best friend, though, because her reply comes within two minutes.

_@lailadermott it’s a date. ;)_

Laila bites her lip because she might scream, otherwise.


End file.
